


We Are but Strangers (Bound by the Same Shackles)

by ArtsyDeath



Category: One Piece
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Nakamaship, Outdoor Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyDeath/pseuds/ArtsyDeath
Summary: Nami wakes up to the sound of late night footsteps and finds herself offering comfort and distraction to a man who has the same sort of eyes she once had.-Or: some demons are harder to shake off than others and Nami understands better than most.





	We Are but Strangers (Bound by the Same Shackles)

Nami opens her eyes, unsure for a long moment as to what had woken her.

They’d decided to stay at the inn at the small island they had briefly paused at for the two days it would take for the compass to set. Law had been particularly grumpy about it, what with them being only a stone throw away from Dressrosa, but Luffy had coerced him along for a brief adventure through the jungle in search of beetles and he’d mellowed out further with the sake Zoro had practically dropped into his lap.

She knew she wasn’t the only one who found it amusing how off-kilter their Captain had left the other Supernova – and perhaps there was sympathy there, too, in Zoro’s actions and the way Sanji teases him with a dinner of twelve different sort of dishes containing bread after his blurted confession to disliking it.

She breathes out, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling and wondering, for a moment, if it was simply the lack of a rocking ship beneath her feet that had woken her up.

But then she hears the tell-tale noise of someone moving down the stairs outside the door and frowns as she pushes herself up.

They had been the only ones staying at the inn which meant that the steps belonged to someone in their group.

She grabs for her jeans and shimmies into them and after a moment of consideration reaches for the faded yellow hoodie Law had borrowed her during one of the chillier nights at Thousand Sunny.

She hadn’t exactly been cold, she naturally ran rather hot blooded, but she had been rather amused by the sheer _doctorish_ worry from the proclaimed Surgeon of Death who’d practically shoved it into her arms.

She foregoes her shoes, opening the door and padding down quietly, slipping outside with a quiet _click_ behind her.

She breathes in the cool air, zeroing on the figure in the distance, and the large sword and the sweep of a coat immediately let her know just who was out of bed.

_Law._

Nami watches his fading back for a long moment – arms wrapped around herself, watching the way the air mists as he breathes out.

It’s none of her business – not really.

Law isn’t her Captain, isn’t part of the crew, but they are in an Alliance and a part of her sympathises with the plight of him. She doesn’t know the entire history but she does know that there’s much yet in the past of the Heart Pirates Captain that gnaws and aches, connected, somehow, to the Shichibukai Doflamingo.

Nami had once been in his shoes and it is this understanding that brings her feet into movement.

Law is tall, long-legged, but there’d been a sort of aimlessness to his movement that meant that she was soon catching up to him with her own firm trot – falling in step with him just outside the village walls as trees rose up above them.

He glances at her – that silly hat of his missing, strands of dark hair brushing over golden eyes as the wind tugged gently at them – but he does not slow and he does not object to her company so Nami keeps easy pace with him as he threads his path through the forest, everything darkening among the high trees Luffy had spent the better part of the day hanging from.

She would never quite understand her Captain’s fascination with beetles but Robin had stacked up on all sorts of books on them and they tended to take turns helping him identifying them since his own patience with research was a no-go.

Usopp’s latest addition to Luffy’s beetle adventures was a sketchbook where Luffy could pick favourite beetles to be carefully drawn and named and Nami knew, from Sanji, that he kept it beneath the pillow in his hammock, carefully treasured.

He was endearing, their Captain, and their love for him knew no bounds – just like he challenged the world for them, they would do anything to see him claim his rightful place as King of the Pirates and they treasured his smiles and laughter higher than any gold.

“You should be sleeping, Nami-ya.”

She hums. “Same could be said for you,” she returns, tilting her head to watch his silhouette beside her. “Or does the _Ope Ope no Mi_ mean you can just cut your tiredness away?”

His look is very dry and she finds the corner of her mouth tugging up.

Only weeks ago she would never have allowed herself to relax in his company. Law was a terrifying man, by all appearance, and she’d read the news when he claimed his spot as Shichibukai; the hundred hearts delivered, still beating, to the marines.

Intense, intent, a man hounded by his own demons and not afraid to push limits to reach whatever goal that the death of Doflamingo served.

And yet, not quite willing to sacrifice all morals – there was a softness in him, not quite tempered by the cruelty of the world.

She had once been the same - that last lingering sense of _hope_ refusing to die, a hesitance to go beyond all redemption.

To become the monster to kill it.

Nami breathes out.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, a note of warning creeping into his voice.

“Sure there isn’t,” Nami responds, ignoring it. “We all routinely take nightly walks for no apparent reason.”

A small _hmpf_ answers her.

It is a good night – cool but not particularly windy. If it had been warmer it wouldn’t be unlike Usopp’s old village which was really part of the reason they’d chosen to stay at the inn.

He had been clearly nostalgic since their first step onto land and Luffy, for all that he was pretty bad at catching hints, had a sixth sense for catching that sort of thing in his crew, even if he didn’t always understand or knew how to act on it.

He is a man of instinct, their Captain, selfish and irresponsible and yet endlessly loving. He had sussed out Usopp’s reluctance in leaving and then, when he looked to Robin for some sort of explanation, he had listened to her suggestion for staying the night and agreed to it despite his noticeable dislike to staying anywhere that wasn’t Thousand Sunny.

He had been clingy, since their reunion, understandably so, and the death of Ace was a sore spot on their crew – something that needed to be brought up and discussed eventually for they had _failed him_.

But that was Zoro’s decision, as First Mate, to decide upon the best time and place to bring it up with their Captain.

“Why are you here, Nami-ya?”

She halts with him, catching the way his knuckles whitens momentarily with tension before he focuses upon her with renewed calm.

He is a handsome man, she decides, looking upon him. Tall and limber, wiry, perhaps, that peculiar golden glint of his eyes intent and heady to have focused upon her.

If Law was an animal she was sure he would have been a cat-like creature of some sort.

 _You looked like you needed a friend,_ is what she thinks.

“You looked like you needed a distraction,” is what she says.

His eyes narrow briefly, searching hers, before something contemplative shifts through them and finally something predatory that makes the hair on her arms rise.

“Distraction?” he repeats and he takes a step towards her, looming even as she refuses to budge – head tilting back to keep his gaze. “What kind of _distraction_ were you thinking of, Nami-ya?”

It’s a scare tactic – something to make her go away, she thinks, looking at him. Sees the pale waxy sheen of his skin, the bags beneath his eyes, the way tension knots through him – visible even with the dark coat and low sheen of the moon crawling through the tall trees.

Whatever Doflamingo was to him, whatever he had done, it was anchored in something deep and personal – something that had rattled him and continued to rattle him which was off-putting for a man who prided himself on _control._

For Nami knows there’s little control in one’s life when there’s a monster lurking beneath your bed.

It wouldn’t end until Doflamingo was dead, just like Arlong, and he might not know it or believe it completely yet but Luffy would be the one to set him free.

Nami reaches up – enjoying the way he falters when she brushes strands of black from his eyes, stroking the pads of her fingers gently over his pale skin, skimming down to trace the line of his jaw until her thumb comes to rest against the scruff of black on his chin, fingers curling beneath.

Watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs in a swallow.

He goes willingly when she gives him a little tug down, pushing up on her toes and meeting his lips with a press of her own.

It’s chaste, soft, slow, and when she draws back she opens her eyes – not quite sure when she’d closed them.

“What do you want from me?” he breathes and her heart tugs for affection shouldn't come at a price.

“Nothing,” she tells him. And then. “Free of interest, just for tonight,” she says because she _can_ , something to disarm, and it works because he snorts.

“I’m not a man for feelings,” he warns her.

“And my heart belongs to my Captain,” she answers simply and he studies her for a moment longer before he leans down and slants his mouth over hers.

Law has clever hands, she knows, and a clever mouth, she’s learning as he strokes his tongue against hers as she opens her mouth, deepening it with a curl.

He tastes of the bitter village fruit they had had for desert – something that decidedly suits him, she thinks with a little hum as he draws back, heady eyes dark with hunger and a desperate need for the distraction she's offering him.

He backs her up against the smooth trunk of the tree behind her as he pushes his lips against her anew and he grasps for her thigh, easily hoisting her up against him, her legs wrapping around waist with a little curl of her toes as he pushes up against her and she inhales the musky scent of him as he trades her lips for her jaw, dragging his teeth against her skin as he seeks out the sensitive skin of her neck that she bares with an inviting stretch.

“As much as I like the sight of you in my sweater,” Law murmurs against her skin. “I think I’d rather see you without it.” His hands dips just beneath the hem in askance and she smiles as she reaches down and together they get it up and over her head.

Before he can ask she reaches behind her, tugging the string open with a twist of her thumb to avoid the small needle there and then frees the one at her neck, tugging it off to eyes that trace over her with clear appreciation.

Nami pulls at the band of the nodachi and Law obliges by sliding it over his head, curving his back in a way that makes sure to keep their lower bodies flush as he drops it to the ground along with his coat and the shirt beneath it with a little shiver as he bares his skin to the cool night air.

When he pushes himself back up against her he groans low. “How are you so warm?” he demands, his cold hands settling at her waist, her nipples pebbling at the contrasting feel and she laughs as he snags the shell of her ear between his teeth with a little tug before tracing his tongue warm and wet over it.

Nami touches him, stroking over the dark tattoos, tracing the wiry twists of his muscles, and then down on his back for a firmer hold as he tightens his grip and rolls himself up against her – allowing her to feel the growing bulge straining against those ridiculously spotted pants of his.

He does it again, grunting, and the rough press makes her tighten her hold of him, breathing out sharply as he angles experimentally and sets a smooth rolling rut against her as she moans, lowering her mouth over the skin on his neck and sucking a dark bruise there with a drag of her tongue in satisfaction.

She feels the way he tightens his hold on her hip, guiding her against him, wetness dampening her underwear with a rough exhalation as she tightens her hold on him, stilling him to a shiver that runs through his coiled muscles.

Nami reaches down between them to a sharp breath as she opens the button of her pants and he eases her down, helps her get them all the way off, tugging her underwear with them.

But instead of rising up he shifts to his knees and Nami’s hand shoots down, grasping at his hair as he leans forward and drags his tongue up between her legs.

He nudges one leg over his shoulder, spreading her wider as he angles and drags over her folds, stroking up against her clit with a rough flat drag that makes her exhale with a shiver as she leans her head back with a _thunk_ against the tree.

Law grasps at her rump, tugging her closer as he curls his tongue up and into her, dragging over the sensitive nerves just at the opening and then up, tasting her wetness with knowing hunger as he urges her to roll against his mouth, his breath warm, his tongue hot.

The first push of a long slender finger into her makes her clamp down, feeling the bony curve of the bend of his finger as it stretches her out, dragging back to be joined by a second one to a hitch of her breath and a low moan as he lapped against her clit, sucking it into his mouth as he fucked into her, muscles coiling tight at the feel of him, at the stretch and roughness of his calloused fingers.

She comes with a hitch, tightening down upon him as he slows with a curve of his fingers, and he pulls out with a slick noise and a curl of satisfaction.

He presses his lips against hers and she tastes herself on his tongue with a little groan.

“I didn’t bring protection,” he says as he pulls back, eyes like molten gold.

Nami drags a finger over his skin, flattening her palm over the pounding of his heart.

“You won’t need it,” she admits and he pauses, considering it, his thumb stroking up against the barely visible scar on her lower belly with a question she averts her eyes to.

It had been her choice, in the end.

“I’m clean,” he tells her, perhaps kindly so, and she smiles at him as she presses forward to steal a chaste kiss.

He frees himself from the confines of his pants with a hiss as the cool air meets the hot warmth of his erection and she admires the length and size of him as he gives a little roll of his shoulders.

“How do you want me, Nami-ya?” he asks and – really, that cocky intensity is just _unfair._

“I think I would have enjoyed riding you,” she says as his eyes lid. “But it looks like it might be a bit too cold for you.” She flicks one of his nipples, hard in the chilly air, and he gives her a grumpy look that makes her mouth twitch. “But I run hot blooded, unlike you…” she trails off in invitation, eyebrow raised.

To her amusement he takes the time to spread his coat out before drawing her down and shifting to settle between the spread of her legs, his cock settling up and against her belly as he leans forward to catch a nipple on his mouth, pressing up with his tongue with a drag of his teeth over the hard nub as she coils her back with an encouraging murmur as he shifts his hips and the blunt head of his cock presses up against her entrance.

She groans as he pushes forward and into her, spreading her out, letting her feel the way she opens up and settles below the head of his cock to a raw drag as he pushes deeper, feeding her inch after deep inch as her back arches, hips coiling up to meet him with a leg that hooks around him, pulling her up, dragging him down.

He’s large and she shivers when he bottoms out into her, pelvis flush against hers, hands grasping at her hips as he pushes just that inch deeper, letting her feel the way the head of his cock presses against her cervix.  

She can feel his pants against the back of her thighs and rolls against him with a satisfied little sigh, clenching down, mouth twitching as his grip tightened painfully against her before he caught himself with a breath and a smooth relax of his muscles.

There’s sweat beading on his brow, despite the cold, and she groans at the drag as he pulls out and pushes back into her experimentally, eyes intent on her expression as he repeats it and she gives him an encouraging push of her heel against his lower back into the next one as he leans forward, tongue dragging from her belly button and up on her sternum, tasting the sweat on her skin as he thrusts sharply forward, burying deep, stretching her out achingly good.

Law fucks her hard and deep, never fast, dragging it out until she’s coiled so tight that she’s digging her nails into his back, an embarrassing noise caught between clenched teeth as she breathed harshly against his ear, her nipples dragging against the skin of his chest as he holds her against him, practically folded over her.

“Law-“ she groans and he tightens his grip on her, one hand curling between them, the heel of his palm grinding down against her clit with a sharp twitch as the thrust of his hips mashed her up against his palm over and over again until her back coiled and she clenched down on him _hard_ as her orgasm hit her, teeth clamping down on his neck to muffle a sharp cry to a curse against the skin of her neck as he moulded himself tighter, taking her harder, faster, edging into something desperate.

She clings to him, mouth twisting as he drags against overstimulated nerves, but it doesn’t take long before he buries himself deep – so close that she was practically in his arms, pressed flush as he came with a groan into her, sticky warmth filling her up.

His shoulders slowly unknots as he sinks against her, into her arms, allowing her to hold him with a little shiver as cool air brushes over the sweat on his back.

He stiffens, momentarily, when she shifts just enough to get a hand up and card her fingers through his hair but then he’s closing his eyes, allowing himself a moment of weakness as the pounding of his heart steadies against hers.

She smiles as his breathing evens out into sleep, exhaustion winning him over, and with a bit of careful shifting she manages to snag up the hoodie, spreading it out over his back with a brush of her fingers over the mark of the Heart Pirates broad and proud on his back.

"Believe in him," she murmurs to the sleeping Captain, brushing her fingers over his brow. "Believe in him and he'll set your free," she promises him.

**Author's Note:**

> ... I might be on a One Piece binge atm. Just bought 88 and 89 of the manga and I've been in a right geek mood all day. And, I mean, wow - I kinda love Katakuri, and this whole Big Mom things just. Ah. I am a fan. 
> 
> And someone requested more Law/Nami content so this is for you! I contemplated gifting this to you but I wasn't sure if you'd like something smutty so I ended up awkwardly not sending you a message and just throwing it up instead so _hello_ , if you're reading this, you have a really neat tumblr and I am a fan.
> 
> I really need to reread the Dressrosa arc, I'm kinda hmm about the details surrounding all of that and I kinda need to have a better grasp of it if I want to write more of these two.
> 
> I think I want to write something post-Dressrosa with them? Right now I have a test coming up on the 25th, however, so it'll have to wait because my brain juices need to be focused elsewhere. I have mad bad discipline but writing simple pieces between studying helps so I'm throwing stuff up when I write something half-way decent.
> 
> All plottish stuff is, until then, on hold. 
> 
> Artsy-death on tumblr if you want to swing by, I'm all friendly, promise. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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